Ebb and Flow
by staymagical
Summary: Eight hundred years after Arthur's death, Merlin is at the end of his rope. In a fit of desperation, he channel's his magic and forces his king to return to the modern world, but his actions have consequences even he could not have foreseen. Very loosely inspired by Pushing Daisies. One-Shot


**A/N: ATTENTION! T** **his is my submission to the Merlin Reverse Big Bang challenge and is very loosely inspired by the much missed show, Pushing Daisies. No, you don't have to know anything about Pushing Daisies to understand what's going on. Wording and structure in the beginning of the story does reflect the narrator style of the show however, just to be clear.**

 **Also, this is a merthur slash fic. Just fyi.**

 **I posted it to my AO3 at the end of August and completely forgot to put it here. Whoops. Anyway, if you want to see the photoset that goes with it, it's on my AO3 (same name, staymagical. Basically that's me everywhere) and was done by the lovely ArgentSleeper.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

At that moment, by the edge of a lake somewhere in the United Kingdom, Merlin appeared to be twenty-five years, sixteen weeks, three days and forty-five minutes old. But it was an illusion. In fact Merlin was eight hundred and seventy-seven years, forty weeks, three days, and forty-five minutes old. For he was immortal and he had been waiting a very long time.

Arthur Pendragon had been dead for eight hundred and forty-eight years, sixteen weeks, nine hours, and twenty-two minutes and not a minute more. And Merlin had felt each and every second of that time. He was done waiting.

Approximately seven days, three hours, and thirty-seven minutes ago, he had decided to change the course of fate, bring his king back himself, and damn the consequences. At the shores of the lake he had lay his king to rest almost five hundred and fifty years ago, he poured his magic, his will, his love into the depths of Avalon. The earth had shook with the power and Merlin felt his hope lift.

Then he promptly passed out.

The Fates, however, were none too happy about this change of events and visited Merlin in his dreams.

"You have meddled with our ways," the first intoned, her voice low with warning, "broken through doors that ought to remain sealed."

"You have disrupted the course of life and death, which ought to remain unchanged," the second accused.

"You have changed fate," the third spoke, tone ominous, "in ways it ought not to be changed."

"For this," they spoke as one, "we shall meddle with your ways and you too shall be changed. This is your punishment, this is your fate. Be wary, Emrys, that you do not taint everything you touch."

And with that, they disappeared, leaving Merlin to drift along with waves of dreamless sleep.

When he awoke, he found that nothing had changed. The shores were as calm and empty as ever, the rumbling of a lorry trudging down the nearby street the only sign of life. So it was with a heavy heart that he made his way back to his small cottage on the edge of the city.

It wasn't until later when he walked through the cottage's door, gold lighting his eyes but no fire leaping to life in the hearth as he intended, that Merlin remembered the fates' threatening words. And he found, after numerous attempts of magic both big and small, that the most he could do was light a simple candle.

His magic it seemed, was gone.

He could feel it still flowing under his skin but no matter how much he willed, he could not use it as he pleased. His magic was dormant, only to be used when it pleased. It had a new purpose, one that Merlin didn't know.

 _We shall meddle with your ways and you too shall be changed._

But the Fates sure did.

They had not appeared to him again. Even as he stood on the shores, screaming at the empty water until a passerby threatened to call the police. There was little he could do but hope that his lack of magic was indeed punishment for forcing Arthur's return. That Arthur was now going to return. Any day now.

After five days, sixteen hours, and twenty-three minutes, that hope had diminished significantly. And his magic still lay dormant.

It was six days, five hours and thirty-four minutes after he had passed out on the shores of the lake that Merlin discovered exactly what his magic's new purpose was.

Abby was five years, twelve weeks, seven hours, and two minutes old. She had been living with Merlin for four years, fifty-one weeks, and fifteen minutes and had never shown any interest in changing that. She had showed up on his doorstep one night and meowed until he had stumbled grumpily to the door and thrown chicken onto the porch. The friendship had only blossomed from there.

But on this day, Abby didn't return home as she usually did and Merlin, mind already in a state of distress over his lack of magic and Arthur's continued absence, didn't notice.

It wasn't until he woke up the next morning that Merlin noticed the lack of a warm fur body that usually lay curled on his pillow next to his head. He wasted no time going out in search of his furry companion.

He eventually found her, by some stroke of luck, deep in the woods that surrounded the lake. But by then, she had bled out from the trap around her leg and died. Merlin could feel what little hope he had left of the world, shattering.

With the press of the steel button, he released her limp body and went to pick her up so he could carry her home and give her a proper send off. But as he touched her, he felt his magic spring to life and rush to his fingertips and out into Abby's body, filling her with life and warmth. He flinched away. A second later, Abby opened her eyes, gold sparking through them for a brief second before settling back to their usual blue. She stretched like nothing had happened and rolled onto her feet.

She was alive, whole, and completely healthy.

And Merlin realized with a shock what the fates had meant. He had changed, his magic had changed. It was no longer completely his to control. It was now linked to the otherworld, the world beyond, to Avalon perhaps. He could control life and...death?

A minute later, a squirrel fell out of a nearby tree, dead. Merlin, now crying tears of joy rather than sadness, understood the reason immediately. For a life to be given, a life must be taken.

"Come on Abby, let's go home,"

Merlin felt the tickle of fur against his leg as Abby purred and brushed up against him but a second later, it was gone and a shock of magic rushed through his leg and settled back in his body. When Merlin glanced down, Abby was once again, lifeless.

And no matter how many times he touched her, pleaded with her, and tried to will his magic into her, she would not wake. Abby was now truly dead.

That was how Merlin learned the full extent of the punishment the Fates had bestowed upon him.

He had no time to contemplate it as the ground shook and his soul lightened, taking flight on wings that had not unfurled for over eight hundred years.

Arthur had returned.

* * *

Merlin ran, his heart alight, steps quick and near silent as they beat a path toward the lake. Abby was dead weight, carefully cradled in the crook of his arm like a precious infant. He still felt the pang of her death, still mourned for her, but his mind, his heart, his soul was singing completely for his king, all other pains and woes dulled in comparison.

 _Just, hold me._

It would not be the last thing Arthur ever said to him. He would be able to touch, feel, hold, _breathe_ Arthur once more. Nothing else mattered.

His slowed down when sand and pebbles crunched under his feet and gently set Abby down on the shore, the very stretch of beach he had sent his king off, laying him to rest within the depths of Avalon. The last place he had ever seen Arthur.

Until now.

It was not like a scene from the motion pictures Merlin had come to love so much. No golden hair catching the rays, bejeweled crown resting elegantly on his brow, legendary sword at his side gleaming as birds flew and sang around him. Because as Merlin knew all too well, life was not at all like the movies.

Arthur stood hunched, panting from the exertion of having to pull his sopping wet body out of the lake, chainmail, armor, and all. His golden hair was dripping, darkened with water, silt, and dirt from the lake, armor filthy, boots caked with mud and pebbles. A string of water grasses clung to his pauldron, snaking up the side of his head to mingle with his hair.

But to Merlin, Arthur in that moment was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes on.

"Arthur," the name was no more than a whisper on Merlin's lips, his mind still trying to catch up with what he was seeing, that Arthur was really and truly here.

Arthur looked up in surprise. "Merlin?" He frowned. "What on earth are you wearing."

That was all it took for Merlin to completely lose it. Tears streamed down his face and he laughed with joy. He didn't bother with propriety—he hadn't for the past few decades—and launched himself into Arthur's arms.

Of course Arthur wasn't prepared for such a display and Merlin's momentum pushed him off balance until they fell back into the shallow waters with a splash.

"Merlin!"

Merlin laughed, filled to the brim with such joy and glee at the sound of his name on Arthur's lips once more. He surged forward on impulse until their lips met. Arthur stiffen beneath him, hands hovering uncertain just above Merlin's biceps, but he didn't pull back and soon, Arthur soften and returned the kiss. It was gentle and brief but filled with longing and desire that Merlin had never felt from Arthur before, at least, not toward him. Hands touched his shoulders lightly, hesitant, as though Arthur didn't know where to put them let alone what was happening, but Merlin felt the heat from them all the same. It was like an electric current shooting through him, sending sparks of love of pleasure through him. This, this is what he had been waiting for. This is was worth all those centuries of waiting, just this moment, this feeling. To hold and touch and be with Arthur again. It was all worth it.

Soon enough, Arthur broke away and sat back, but neither of them let go of the other and Merlin knew he would never want to again. Pebbles and rocks were digging into his knees through his now wet jeans but he didn't care. Arthur was here, Arthur was back. Everything would be all right once more.

Arthur, despite the moment they had just shared, instantly reverted back to his prat self and glared at Merlin like a dog being forced to bathe. "I am not too keen to get back in this blasted lake after just getting out of it."

Merlin laughed again, seemingly unable to stop the giddiness that coursed through him. A few more tears escaped, running tracks down his cheeks. Arthur frowned, scrutinizing Merlin's face for a second before his glare softened, slowly morphing into concern.

"Merlin, are you alright?"

Merlin could not hold back the beaming smile even if he wanted to. "Better than I have been in a very long time."

He felt Arthur tense at his words, his eyes leaving Merlin's face to take in their surroundings, the street nearby with its ever present stream of motor vehicles, the clusters of cottages and homes bordering the trees, the planes that flew overhead, their engines interrupting the peace the lake provided.

Arthur's eyes widened, the fear and dread written plainly across his face and Merlin wished with all his heart that he could spare his king the answer to his next question.

"Merlin, how long have I been...gone?"

It still made him wince. He had known this question was bound to arise when Arthur returned. He had devised speeches and explanations through the years, ways to break it to Arthur gently how much he had missed, how much he had to catch up on. But all his carefully planned words were forgotten the second the time came for them to be of use.

He opened his mouth, closed it, tried to order his thoughts, and opened his mouth again. But in the end he just closed it with a resigned sigh and looked out toward the water, not wanting to meet Arthur's eyes. There was no easy explanation, not for something like this. There never would be.

"Merlin." Arthur's voice was stern now, low and threatening as his fingers gently but forcibly nudged Merlin's chin, urging him to meet the king's eyes again. There was no more avoiding it.

Merlin sighed and, looking into Arthur's piercing blue eyes said, "Just a little over eight hundred and forty-eight years."

Arthur stared at Merlin for a beat, then two, searching his eyes for a lie. But Merlin just stared resolutely back, sadness creeping through him as he thought back on the lonely years, the painful memories, the days when he had all but given up on Arthur, on life.

"Oh," Arthur breathed, shoulders slumping and hands releasing Merlin's face and arms. He moved to stand, and Merlin, not wanting to let go, stood with him.

That was not at all the reaction Merlin had been expecting. He had pictured confusion, shouting, crying, hell even a tantrum of toddler proportions. But not, this. Arthur just stood there, taking in the countryside, gaze alighting on the differences, the unknowns he could see. It was not unwelcome but definitely didn't set Merlin at ease.

"You took that a lot better than I thought you would," Merlin finally said, breaking Arthur from his study of a rumbling lorry passing through. He looked back at Merlin, fear and anger swimming in his eyes.

"Oh believe me, Merlin, I didn't."

* * *

Teaching a medieval king how the world and life in the twenty-first century worked was a lot harder than Merlin had ever anticipated. He never knew how much he now took for granted and how much he expected and had grown to rely on the technology and luxuries that surrounded him.

Arthur of course loved the now vast array of food the new world provided. New flavors and textures and colors, extoci fruits and dishes he had never heard or seen. Crisps were a favorite of his despite his mistrust of the plastic packaging ("There is nothing natural about that stuff, Merlin.") and chocolates that brought his sweet tooth to life.

Everything else, he was not too keen on.

"What do you mean no one carries a sword? What about a dagger? A crossbow?! This is barbaric! Have you seen the ferocious metal beasts out there Merlin? I can't wander around unarmed!"

"Are you sure you aren't just magicking that _thing_ to life?"

"What?! You mean there are _people_ inside those metal birds?! That has to be magic, you can't tell me that's not magic. How do they fit?"

"But what's the point, Merlin? Why go out and pay for something when the magic box at home does the same thing?"

"No, I won't do it, I need to be able to move about. Just give me back my trousers and jerkin, I beg of you."

For anyone else, the task of wrangling and explaining the world to an irritated king would be less than desireable. Merlin didn't mind in the least. After waiting for so long, expecting and pleading for Arthur to return, feeling his hope dwindle down through the years until nothing remained and he was but a former shadow of himself, this was pure bliss. He would take the confused, annoyed, and completely stubborn king over centuries of loneliness any day. For the first time in eight hundred years, he felt whole.

Granted there were problems, points when the world became too much for Arthur and he would shout at Merlin or completely lose his cool and throw something at him, sometimes both. He was just so full of confusion and fear of the world he now found himself in that his mind resorted back to his princely ways. It was hard on him, Merlin knew that, but Arthur would always apologize, always come back and try to learn whatever it was that Merlin was teaching or showing him.

They stayed indoors for a good portion of the first few days, only venturing out once so Merlin could show Arthur a bit of society. It hadn't gone too well. Arthur resolutely hated cars and wanted nothing to do with them, but he was fascinated by the roads they drove on and the sidewalks that lined the streets. Bicycles were strange contraptions but intriguing while cell phones were nothing short of magic in his eyes. In fact, everything electronic was unfathomable and Arthur kept blaming Merlin and his magic for their existence.

Merlin had yet to tell him about the change in his magic.

In fact, Arthur seemed content to avoid the subject entirely. Merlin couldn't blame him really. To Arthur, it was like no time had passed at all so Merlin's reveal and betrayal was still fresh in his mind. And though Merlin was content to never bring it up again, he knew they would have to have the discussion sooner or later.

It was Arthur, however, that brought it up first.

"Merlin?"

Merlin cracked open one eye and gazed at Arthur sitting up beside him on the bed. He had one of Merlin's history books propped on his knees his brow furrowed in thought. This had been a recent hobby of his, reading through any history books Merlin could find. He wanted to know what had happened after his death—though their history was thought of more as a myth now—and how things had come to be as they are. He would spend hours just poring over old and new history books, even some fiction books if the others were lacking. To him, it was fascinating and Merlin found it quite adorable.

"Hm?" he hummed in response, sleep slowly pulling at his mind.

"Your magic," Merlin instantly tensed at the words, now fully awake, "Magic in general actually...does it still exist?"

"Not like it used to," Merlin sighed, unsure if he was referring to himself or magic as a whole. Both were true.

"Where has it gone?" Arthur looked over at him then, his eyes genuinely curious and not hint of malice or fear in them. Merlin pushed himself up onto his side and rested his head in his hand as Arthur continued, "None of these books make any mention of it, except to discredit it as legend or myth or deranged mutterings from vengeful girls. It can't have just, disappeared. I mean, you're still here."

They both winced at the mention of Merlin's long existence.

"Sorry," Arthur said the sincerity in his voice soothing Merlin's aching heart for the centuries he spent alone. The topic was one they had touched one once, the first night of Arthur's return. It had been filled with lots of tears and pain and confessions of love and loss. Merlin had told Arthur about what he had seen, heard, done, felt through the years and Arthur had consoled him the best he could. He had needed a lot of consoling. And after waking up in the morning, eyes puffy and red and Arthur's arms wrapped around him, Merlin knew that despite all he had been through, he would heal and he would be all right. Arthur was the bandage to his broken soul.

Merlin gave him a sad smile. "For the most part, it has. There is no more magic left in this world, Arthur, not that I know of at least. And I have looked. For all I know, I am truly the last of my kind in both aspects. Dragonlord and a sorcerer."

"Warlock." Arthur corrected without hesitation.

Merlin smiled, his heart bursting, feeling like the world had finally been set right. He was accepted and loved by the one who mattered most. "Yes."

* * *

"It's like the lower town market, only smaller and with more variety," Merlin explained, his strides in tune with Arthur's as they walked toward town. "There's refrigerators and freezers to keep foods fresh—well sort of—and canned food as well."

Arthur made a face. "I don't understand how all the people can be alright with eating that food out of an impenetrable metal container. For the effort, it should at least taste good. Or look appetizing."

Merlin sighed but smiled. "I've told you, it keeps food from perishing."

"It's stupid." Arthur tugged at the sleeve of his jumper, fidgeting. "And why does nobody hunt anymore? I miss hunting."

"There are some that do, just most don't." Merlin himself couldn't remember the last time he had been hunting. Years? Decades? He couldn't be sure. It used to be his least favorite pastime, but ever since Arthur had died, he found that he missed it and cherished the memories of it. Every memory he had with Arthur he treasured.

Arthur tilted his head up, excited all of a sudden. "Merlin, we are going hunting."

Merlin chuckled. "You'll have to ride in a car."

Arthur was shaking his head before Merlin had even finished his sentence. "No, absolutely not, you can not make me. Just procure us some horses."

"The world doesn't work like that anymore, Arthur."

"Ugh," Arthur groaned, throwing his hands up and almost hitting and old lady as she passed. _Sorry_ , Merlin mouthed to her before turning his attention back to Arthur as his king continued, "I hate this stupid place. I miss Camelot."

A deep ache built up in Merlin's heart and his face fell. "Me too," he whispered.

They walked in silence for a minute, only the steady sound of their footsteps and the occasional passing car or pedestrian filling the space. It was not a bad place to introduce Arthur to the world. Simple, quiet neighborhood for the most part. Nothing like the city. But Merlin understood Arthur's desire for their old lives, for the way things used to be. He would give up everything he knew, all that he loved in this world, for a few more years in their old one.

"But hey," Merlin said, breaking the somber mood as he nudged Arthur in the ribs. "Camelot didn't have Cadbury's."

Arthur grumbled but his features softened. He nudged Merlin back, both wearing mirroring smiles on their faces.

"Come on, the store's this way."

It all happened so fast, he had no time react, magic or no magic.

One second they were crossing the street, smiling and laughing as their shoulders brushed with every step. Then he was on the ground, some force having shoved him toward the side of the road. His ears were ringing, his surroundings nothing more than muffled voices and dull blurred outlines. He turned his head, finding to his surprise that he was lying on the pavement face down. Then the pain in his head kicked in and he groaned. Gravel and dirt dug into his palms as he leveled himself up a bit. Noise was slowly returning, he could hear someone saying something, their tone frantic. But he couldn't figure out what had happened, where Arthur—

Arthur.

Sound came roaring back like a tidal wave, crashing into his ears and flooding his pounding head. But he ignored the pain, turning toward the commotion behind him and feeling the world tilt on its side as he registered what he was seeing.

A lorry was stalled in the middle of the street not a half a meter behind him, the driver a distraught mess beside his open cab door. But it was the figure lying in the road in front of the vehicle that drew Merlin's attention.

 _No no no no no_

Merlin scrambled unsteadily to his feet not wanting to believe the evidence right in front of him, and stumbled blindly toward the motionless figure. He could hear the driver trying to get his attention, or talking on the phone to the emergency services and several other witnesses on the side of the road and coming out of shops and homes nearby. They meant nothing to him. Nothing in comparison to his king who now lay lifeless and broken in the middle of the street in twenty-first century Britain.

Arthur's eyes were open, body splayed on the asphalt. There was no blood, a few scrapes and what would be bruises, but no life in him. His chest was still.

"No," Merlin whispered unable to believe what he was seeing.

Just when he had got him back, after waiting for so long, going through pain and anguish, depression and anger, he was to lose him again. The one person that he needed most, the one person he had built his whole his existence around, fate decided to rip him from his hold.

No, not fate, the Fates.

And suddenly Merlin understood.

 _This is your punishment, this is your fate._

He looked up, finding the three aged woman that had been mingling with the crowd on the side of the road and locking eyes with them. They had planned for this all along. His changed magic was not the punishment, it was merely the catalyst. Just a tool to use for their end game. His punishment was to be much much worse.

He knew what he was expected to do.

Tears poured down his cheeks, leaving trails in the dirt and dust gathered there as he focused on Arthur's body once more. There would be no going back once it was done. But Merlin didn't let that thought linger. He pushed it aside. Anything was better than being without Arthur again.

 _Be wary, Emrys, that you do not taint everything you touch._

With a resigned sob, Merlin reached out and traced a featherlight touch on Arthur's cheek.

His magic surged, vibrant, strong and powerful, filling him with a energy and bliss that contradicted the moment. It rushed into Arthur's body, sending shivers across Merlin's skin as it filled his body with life.

And then the connection broke and Merlin scrambled back.

Arthur gasped in a lungful of air, eyes glowing gold for a brief second before receding back to blue. He blinked and looked around, eyes finally finding Merlin's and he smiled.

"Oh, good. You're alright." And Merlin burst into sobs, slowly scooting himself further away.

"Merlin? Merlin what's wrong?" But Merlin just shook his head, unable to take a breath let alone speak. The people mingling on the side of the road were slowly starting to disperse, some back into the safety of their homes others, moving toward Arthur and Merlin. Arthur sat up and leaned toward Merlin, brow furrowed and eyes full of concern.

Merlin scrambled faster out of reach.

Hurt flashed across Arthur's eyes before the concern was back and he started to crawl after Merlin. "Merlin talk to me. Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Arthur's eyes flited to Merlin's head briefly, to where Merlin could feel a gash, the pain radiating from the open wound. A woman knelt down beside Arthur and asked him something but he shook her off, his attention fully on Merlin.

Another sob escaped Merlin though he tried to hold it in. Someone patted his shoulder and he flinched hard, scrambling to his feet. He wavered as his vision darkened but he managed to remain standing.

"Merlin, talk to me." Arthur got to his feet as well, albeit more gracefully, unshed tears swimming in his eyes. His face was a mix of confusion, hurt, and worry, all aimed at Merlin. "What's wrong?" He took a few steps forward, arm outstretched.

"No! Don't—don't touch me!" Merlin backpedaled, hand up as if he could ward Arthur off. He retracted it realizing that it put him within Arthur's grasp.

"I'm not...I'm not going to hurt you, Merlin." Arthur promised, hands up to show he meant no harm as he took a step forward. "I only pushed you to get you out of the way of the lorry. I swear, I won't hurt you."

"No, you—you can't touch me." Merlin was almost frantic now. He pulled his hands into his jacket and threw up his hood as though the thin fabric layer would keep his magic from rushing back into his body should their skin touch. He actually didn't know much about his newfound ability, didn't know if it was merely skin to skin or if it worked like static electricity. But he wasn't taking any chance, not with Arthur's life on the line. "Arthur please, just...don't."

"Alright, ok." Merlin could hear the ambulance approaching now, blue lights flashing, sirens cutting through the peaceful countryside. They couldn't stay here. Merlin was an eight hundred year old warlock with magic running through his veins and Arthur, well Arthur didn't have any identification or papers. Arthur didn't actually exist.

"We have to go," Merlin said with a sniffle, trying to compose himself. He batted aside the stranger's hand as they tried to talk to him again. "Now Arthur."

Arthur stared at Merlin for a beat, a whirlwind of emotions playing across his features. But his face soon closed off, the mask of the king dropping down into place and he nodded.

They took off down the road, toward the tree line and Merlin's cottage beyond. Merlin stumbled a couple of times, jumping away when Arthur reached out a hand to steady him. After the first few times, he stopped trying to help entirely and kept distance between them.

Merlin slowed his pace as they reached the trees, Arthur matching him, the faint sound of the siren in the background. Merlin tried not to think about how the paramedics would not be leaving the site empty-handed, how there was going to be a body for them to collect. A life for a life. He didn't want to know who it would be.

The silence between them was thick and heavy, tension burning a hole through their skin. Leaves crunched as they walked down the path, a gentle breeze tickling at their hair. Merlin's head gave a persistent throb and he hissed, hand reaching up to prod at the injury.

It seemed that was all the incentive Arthur needed.

"Merlin, for god's sake talk to me! What is going on?"

Merlin flinched, body on edge and tense. He didn't know what to say, where to start. There was no easy explanation, no way to gently break it to him all that Merlin had done. How would he take it to learn that Merlin had forced his return? That he had been punished because of it, his magic made to be a curse rather than the gift it had been before. That he had willingly traded Arthur life mere minute ago for someone else's.

"You died."

Arthur stopped in his tracks, his face a mixture of shock and disbelief. "What? That's impossible."

Merlin turned to face him, fingers worrying the cuff of his jacket. He refused to look Arthur is the eyes. "I told you, magic doesn't work like it used to. Recently, that includes mine as well."

"I don't understand."

Merlin sighed and met Arthur's eyes. "I have been waiting a long time for you to return, Arthur. It was difficult and painful and so very lonely. Hope was really all I had and even that eventually ran out. So, I forced your return."

Arthur's eyebrows rose in shock. "You what?!"

"I went to the lake and I poured my magic into Avalon and forced your return," Merlin said.

"You brought me back?"

Merlin nodded. "Yes, but the Fates were none too happy about it." He ran a hand through his hair, wincing as he brushed against the cut on his forehead. Arthur made to step forward but Merlin held up his hands to stop him. Reluctantly, Arthur stepped back but he eyed Merlin with concern. "As punishment for changing the path they laid out, they changed me. They changed my magic."

"How so?" Arthur asked, tone even, unnaturally calm.

"It's no longer mine to control. I can do no more than light a simple candle, and even that is difficult."

"So then whose control is it under?" Merlin could see the fear in Arthur's eyes, the horror that the most powerful warlock's magic was in the hands of someone else

"Theirs. The magic is still mine, it still resides within me and they can't control me." _Except when they manipulate fate itself to force my hand_ Merlin thought to himself. "When I touch a lifeless body, my magic fills it, giving it breath and life. And if I ever touch that body again…"

"Your magic takes it away," Arthur finished, understanding crossing his features. He crossed his arms, a myriad of emotions rolling off him in waves.

Merlin nodded, a tear running down his cheek. He wiped it away. "Forever."

"That's why you didn't want me to touch you. I died and you brought me back." His tone was even again, a front for the storm brewing inside. "And if you touch me again, I'll stay dead."

Merlin nodded again, breath hitching as he tried to control it. "I realized when I saw you lying there that I had it wrong. My magic was never their intended punishment for me. It was simply a means to get to the real one."

"Me." Arthur said, flinching imperceptibly.

"Yes." Merlin sighed. He had to tell Arthur, he had to. There could be no more secrets between them, he was done with lying. Arthur deserved to know. "There's more."

Arthur inclined his head, signalling Merlin to continue.

"When I bring someone back to life, there's a price."

"No." Arthur shook his head, eyes closed as if he could ward away the truth. "Merlin, please tell me someone didn't die in my place?"

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I don't have any control over this."

"Except you do!" Arthur shouted, throwing his hands up. A few startled birds took flight further into the forest. "You could chose to leave things well enough alone! Not to meddle with fate. You could have chosen to leave me to return at Fates' choosing, you could have left me dead." Arthur took a couple of calming breaths before his shoulders slumped and his eyes looked off into the distance. "I think I was happy," he whispered, "content wherever I was. At peace."

"Well I wasn't!" Merlin found himself yelling, all his pain and anguish and just everything that he had been holding back bursting forth. "I was dying Arthur, dying in all the ways one can without their soul physically leaving their body. You have no idea what it's like to spend centuries waiting for the reason you keep living and never knowing when he will show up. I felt like my entire being had been ripped to shreds every day you didn't show up. I couldn't take it anymore," Merlin said, his anger ebbing. He dropped heavily to the forest floor, curling in on himself. "I couldn't take the waiting."

He choked on a breath, tears once more streaming down his face. He let them be, no longer having the strength to wipe them away. "I'm sorry, Arthur. I'm so so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen."

Arthur moved forward, slowly, looking at Merlin for a sign that he could approach. Merlin gave him a slight nod and soon, Arthur was at his side, close enough to touch but far enough so there could be no accidents.

"I know," Arthur said, tone soothing. He moved into Merlin's eye sight, trying to catch his gaze but Merlin glanced away, shame flushing his cheeks. He felt like a failure, defeated in every sense. "Hey, look at me Merlin."

Reluctantly, Merlin met Arthur's gaze. He was shocked to find not worry or concern, anger or fear, but a deep-seated determination blazing like a fire through Arthur's eyes. It sparked a hope in him, a desire that he thought would never be filled.

"We will get through this. Together. I won't leave you, not again." He waited for Merlin to nod before continuing. "I may not approve of what you have done but I do understand why you did it. To be honest, I would have done the same if I were in your position."

Arthur straightened then, his body back lit by the waning sun, looking in that moment, like a true king of legend.

"Now come on, I think there's some people in the magic box who are planning a show for tonight. I don't want to miss it."

Merlin chuckled, wiping his face on his sleeves before standing up. He saw Arthur's hand twitch, wanting to reach out and touch Merlin, but he held himself back. They would have to take precautions, be more careful around each other, and completely rearrange the way they currently lived, but they could get through it. He could get through it. With his king by his side.

* * *

 **A/N:** **And there you have it. Yes, this is a simple one-shot so this is the end. No more, nada, zip, ziltch. Sorry, I just don't have any more planned and have stories on my plate at the moment that I have a hard enough time updating as it is. Busy busy bee. But reviews are lovely and I definitely won't say no to them :)**


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